Strength
by stell-adora
Summary: Continuation/sequel to The New Teacher. Teenage Jim and his teacher Sebastian are close friends now. Close enough that Seb is willing to help Jim deal with the consequences of not unjustly murdering someone.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a continuation/sequel to my first fic, The New Teacher. I suggest reading that one first, if only to get a better idea of the characters.**

**Teenage Jim and his teacher - no, _friend_ - Sebastian Moran. There's more to come, but I'm not sure when it will be ready. Again, thanks to my brilliant Jim, littleclaudy.**

Jim was already in Sebastian's classroom when he came into school at seven thirty. "Jesus!" Sebastian exclaimed, surprised to see him there. "What are you doing in here?" Jim and Sebastian had been spending more and more time together since that first conversation. Jim often sacrificed his free periods to sit and talk with him, but he had never broken into his locked classroom and waited for him. Sebastian wasn't altogether surprised at this behaviour; Jim had done stranger things.

The boy stood up and beamed at Sebastian, (he had now taken to calling him by his first name when they were alone together), glad to see him, even though it was only yesterday that they had last spoken. However, it wasn't just his fondness for his teacher and friend that had brought him here so early. Things at home were getting...difficult. Actually, they were getting rather unbearable. But Jim, still fiercely protective of his private life, if not so much about his emotions, didn't want Sebastian to know that. "Morning, Seb, have a good evening?"

"Nothing particularly exciting, but yeah, it was pleasant enough. And you?" he asked, setting his things down and organising them before giving Jim his full attention.

Jim gave him a look and rolled his eyes, although it was not in the same annoyed fashion as he used to. Now it was more of a 'what are you like?' sort of gesture, which was almost always followed by a smile. "I'm seventeen years old, Seb. Not really much for me to do. Unless you count homework, which I completed to an excellent standard as you will see later."

"Lovely. I'm so proud of you, Jimmy," he said, as a parent to a small child. "Now, back to my original question, why are you in here?"

Jim grinned and laughed a bit, partly amused by Seb's comment, and partly wanting to avoid his second question. "Felt like it," he said vaguely, "Home is boring at the moment."

"How long have you been here?" he asked. He knew better than to ask Jim _why_ his home life was boring. Any question regarding his family or his childhood and Jim would completely shut down.

"Since five," Jim informed him as though this was perfectly normal and reasonable behaviour.

"Why?" Sebastian asked in disbelief. What teenager gets up early to go to school three hours before he has to be there?

Jim shrugged yet again, not liking the expression on Sebastian's face. It was a mixture of concern and confusion. "I was sloping around the town," he explained, "And then I got bored of that. So I decided to come here."

"You decided to break into my classroom and wait for me, even though you knew I wouldn't be here for another two and a half hours?" he asked skeptically. "And you expect me to believe nothing's wrong with this?"

"Don't ask me questions," ordered Jim, looking fiercely at Sebastian, "It just makes things awkward. I can't be bothered with awkward today. Awkward is boring."

Sebastian sighed. Jim was in one of his 'moods'. It was always much harder to talk to him on days like this. "Jim..." he began, "You know I'm just trying to help you. I wish that for once you'd just tell me what's wrong!"

Jim decided it was time to use his distraction technique. With Sebastian, he never aimed to wound him anymore, just to shock or surprise him out of his original line of questioning. "Did I ever tell you I'm gay?" he asked conversationally.

Sebastian stopped. His eyes narrowed slightly, but out of confusion, not anger. He had never even thought about Jim being gay. Or anything, for that matter. He was just...Jim. "No, you didn't," he said quietly. His mind flashed back to the day he had come out. It had been to his mother, the one person he thought he could trust. But things didn't go as planned. There were still scars on his back from his father's belt buckle. "Jim...Christ, of all people, you know _I'm_ okay with it. And I won't tell anyone," he said, doing his best to say all the things he wished his mother had said to him. He hadn't forgotten about his previous question, but right now, this seemed more important. Sebastian was well aware of Jim's tactics, and wouldn't let anything deter him.

"Good old, Sebby," joked Jim, laughing off the kindness and the sentiment, although inside he was unbelievably thrilled by this reaction. Of course he knew Seb would be fine with it, but it still meant a lot. He hadn't ever told anyone before and this would be the time he always remembered. The moment that stuck with him for the rest of his life. His 'coming out' speech, or comment as the case may be. "See, now when you see a hot man, you can ask my opinion, can't you? We can have nice queer conversations about penises and muscles and disco music and paint the walls with rainbows..." He was really going for it now, playing the clown, but he had to. It was inbuilt now. There was no way he could allow himself to be honest enough to simply smile and thank Sebastian, or even give him a hug.

"I can assure you, _none_ of that is _ever_ going to happen," he said with a straight face. But seconds later he smiled. He couldn't help it. He was still desperately concerned about what was going on in the Moriarty household (now more than ever), but he didn't want to darken the mood so abruptly.

"Shame," mused Jim, pretending to be disappointed, "I could have been your gay best friend. Everyone wants one of those, don't they?"

"Maybe Carl Powers will take you up on that," joked Sebastian.

"Ah, yes," grinned Jim, for once not frowning at the name, "Your crush. I don't know, you might get jealous if I took away all of his attention."

Sebastian laughed. He had forgotten about that conversation. "Oh, yeah. On second thought, you'd better not. I want him all to myself."

Jim giggled, feeling a hell of a lot happier than he had a couple of hours ago. Somehow Sebastian had the ability to do that to him. He could come to Sebastian in one of his dark moods and leave feeling lighter and almost content. Almost. Jim hadn't ever reached that mark in his life yet, but he honestly believed that with Seb's help he was getting there.

"So? You _still_ haven't answered my question," said Sebastian, feeling that this was a good time to bring it up again. "Why did you come here?"

"I came here because my father died in his sleep yesterday evening," Jim informed Sebastian, throwing caution to the winds in one of his sudden manic moods. He laughed as soon as he had said it, eyes glinting.

Sebastian just gaped at Jim. He had determined that Jim didn't have a very good relationship with his father, but still, this wasn't something people typically laugh about. "Oh. Are...are you alright?"

Jim nodded enthusiastically, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. "Me? I'm on top of the world. Happy, happy, happy."

This comment only made Sebastian more wary. "Jim..." he sighed, "First of all, you're never 'happy'. Secondly, this isn't exactly a time to be." He put his hand on Jim's shoulder and looked him dead in the eyes. "_Are you alright?_"

"I already told you," said Jim, half crossly, half playfully, "I'm perfectly fine. I'm brilliant, in fact." He glanced at the comforting hand on his shoulder and out of nowhere felt his eyes begin to water. "Except...except I haven't called the police about it yet to come and get him, and now there is no way we will..._I_ will pay the rent. So the house will have to go." He laughed even though his eyes were streaming, "Happy, happy, happy..."

"Oh, my god," Sebastian said. He instinctively pulled Jim into a hug. "Jim, it's going to be okay," he reassured him, even though he had no way of knowing that. "What about your mother? Does she know?"

Jim stiffened instantly, not use to any kind of physical contact whatsoever. He narrowed his eyes in rage that Sebastian had dared to hug him like he was some child, and was about to give him an almighty shove that would send him flying to teach him a lesson, when his body gave out against his will and he ended up clinging limply to Sebastian. Before he knew it, his arms were around his teacher and he had pressed his face into his shirt, afraid of showing his face like this. "My mother is in Ireland," he revealed in a small voice, slightly muffled against Sebastian's chest, "And I don't know where or who with or how to find her. And I don't want to. So no, she doesn't know, and she wouldn't care."

Sebastian was so glad Jim hadn't rejected the hug. All he wanted was to comfort the boy. He held him tighter, almost holding him up. For a while, he didn't say anything, he just enjoyed feeling needed. "We're going to have to call the police, Jim," he said gently. "And sooner rather than later. If you want, I can take the day off so I can be with you for...all of this."

"If you call the police they'll start going through the house and invading it and they'll ask questions. Boring questions." Boring, in Jim-speak, of course meant unbearable or just plain terrible. He didn't know what was going to happen to him now and he was scared. More scared than he'd ever been in his life, even more than the time Carl Powers had threatened to break his skull and let him drown in his own blood and almost gone through with it. He didn't respond to Sebastian's unbelievably kind offer, not wanting to be a burden to him.

"I know they will, Jim. But what else can we do? If he died in his sleep, they won't ask that many questions. Come on. I'm going to go tell the head teacher that neither of us will be in today, and then we'll call the police." He explained things simply, like Jim was a child. He knew that was a bad idea, but he really didn't know how else to react. And after all, Jim was only seventeen. He, technically, still was a child.

Jim sniffed and clawed desperately at Sebastian's shirt, shaking his head madly. "They'll think I killed him!" he exclaimed, eyes now red and still producing more and more salty tears.

Sebastian wrapped his arms around Jim again, holding him close. "But you didn't, so there's nothing they can do. They can't hurt you, Jim. I won't let them," he added.

"No! You don't understand!" he shouted, suddenly breaking into angry sobs that shook his whole body.

Sebastian backed away. He had learned that it was best to give Jim space when he was angry. "What don't I understand? Jim, come on, please, talk to me. I want to help you," he begged. It killed him to see Jim like this. He was always so strong, and now...this.

"Maybe I did kill him, alright?" Jim started laughing hysterically and then collapsed in a heap on the floor, his legs giving way under him. He was dazed for a moment and then went back to laughing. And then the crying was back. "I didn't mean to," he said, in a crazed voice, not looking up at Sebastian, "And I didn't know I did. Maybe I didn't...I don't know. But I might have."

All Sebastian could do was stare, open mouthed. He knew that Jim didn't get along with his father, but this? This was unbelievable. Sebastian shook his head, and as he did so, he caught sight of the clock. It was almost eight. School would be starting soon. He had to get Jim out of here. "Come on," he said, giving Jim his hand in an attempt to get him off the floor. "We need to go."

Jim simply continued to giggle and ignored the hand that was offered to him. "Are you going to arrest me, Sebby?" he asked, "Are you going to take me down to the station and lock me up? Are you going to throw away the key?"

"No, of course not," said Sebastian. "I don't know what we're going to do. But school's about to start, and we can't have everyone coming in here and seeing you on the floor, laughing like a lunatic. Please, Jim, come on!" he said more urgently. He grabbed the boy's arms and pulled him up.

Jim did not like being manhandled one bit, and tried to slap Sebastian away, but it didn't work. The man had been in the military, he could certainly withstand a few childish slaps. After a while, he let himself get swept along by Sebastian, his mind elsewhere. It was foolish of him to be afraid of Sebastian's touch. It wasn't like the man was going to hurt him.

"Walk," Sebastian ordered. He couldn't be seen dragging a boy out to his car. People would talk. "We're going to my car," he said as they moved through the hallway.

Jim did not answer, but obeyed anyway. It was nice not having to think for once. All he had to do was listen and follow instructions. The two got to Sebastian's car without anyone asking questions. That was something, at least. For a brief second, Sebastian remembered the head teacher, and the fact that he should probably tell him that he wasn't going to be in today. But that could wait. Right now, the only thing that mattered to Sebastian was Jim. The boy clearly needed help, and not the kind of help he could give him. He pushed this thought away also. A problem for another time. They both got in the car, and Sebastian started driving. It didn't matter where they were going, really. "Jim," he said after a while. "I need to know. How did your father die?"

"I don't know," Jim told Sebastian truthfully, "Last I saw him, he was still very much alive." He settled into his seat and tried to stop himself from feeling too sick. His nausea had been rising ever since he'd told Seb what had happened, and he didn't want to vomit in Seb's car. "We had a fight..." Jim said vaguely, clutching the seat with his nails, knuckles white.

"Okay," he said. "Can you remember anything else?" he prompted.

"I remember everything," he responded simply, eyes wide and haunted.

"Well then did you kill him, or not?" asked Sebastian, nearly losing his patience. He exhaled shakily. It wasn't fair of him to yell. "I'm sorry. I just need to know whether I'm aiding a criminal or not."

"I. Don't. Know!" shouted Jim, thumping his seat with his fists. "He started trying stuff...I didn't like it...I pushed him..." He said this all very quickly so he didn't have to think about it too much, "I'm not that strong really...didn't work..." Jim stopped talking and clutched his stomach. "Open the window!" he ordered suddenly. Sebastian did as he was ordered. Jim leaned out and was violently sick. He coughed a bit, spat the taste out and then settled back into his seat again, pale and shaking. "So we had a fight and I didn't see what I did to him...I was just trying to get away..." With that, it seemed the story was finished since Jim doubled over and fell completely silent.


	2. Chapter 2

"Jim?" Sebastian said. The boy was unconscious. How the hell did that happen? Sebastian wasn't at all sure what to do. Should he take Jim to the hospital, or the police, or should he just keep driving? Finally, after much thought and curses whispered under his breath, he drove home. Luckily, no one was around to see him carry the boy over his shoulder and into his flat. That would surely have made the neighbors talk. He laid Jim on the couch and got him a glass of water. "Jim," he said, trying to wake him. "Come on, Jim, wake up."

When Jim finally came to, it was to the sound of a familiar and comforting voice. He groaned, mind blank for the moment and then let his eyelids flutter open. There was Mr Moran, leaning over him with worry written all over his face. Jim reached out and touched him, to check that he was real. Content that he wasn't in fact dead, or dreaming, he wriggled slightly and answered in a groggy voice, " 'm awake. What's going on?"

"You passed out in my car. We're at my flat now," he explained, handing Jim the water. He kept watching him for a while, concerned.

The boy took the glass from Sebastian. He wasn't thirsty, but apparently Seb wanted him to drink something and so he took a couple of sips of cool water just to please him. The details were still kind of hazy, but things were slowly creeping back to him. Some of them extremely unpleasant. "Did I get sick on the side of your car?" he asked weakly, not wanting to think about anything else currently rushing through his mind.

Sebastian smiled. Jim always concerned himself with the weirdest details. "I don't think so. That doesn't really matter right now. What do you think we should do?"

"I dunno," he said. Jim usually had an answer for everything, but this time not a single idea came to mind. "I could jump off the bridge over the river?" he suggested seriously.

Sebastian just looked at him in horror. "No," he said, knowing that to the boy, that was an actual possibility. He took a seat next to Jim on the couch. "I...I think we should go to your house," he said cautiously. "We can take a look at...him...and if it looks like anything other than natural causes, we'll...think of what to do."

"I hope I did kill him," remarked Jim evenly, ignoring Sebastian. "It's a shame I will never be able to remember it if I did."

"What did he ever do to you that was so bad?" asked Sebastian, taken aback. He knew absolutely nothing about Jim's home life, but couldn't imagine anything that was bad enough to make Jim act like this. "I know you don't like to talk about it, but..." he trailed off.

Jim merely stared at him in horror. Was he overreacting? Was he mad? Had his father been normal after all? "I thought I already told you. He...tried stuff."

"Yeah, you said that, but what kind of 'stuff'?" he asked, trying with all his might to keep his voice in check. Jim really didn't need to be yelled at right now.

The boy looked mortified and looked away, cheeks bright red with shame. "I never wanted any of it," he assured Sebastian, so nervous he couldn't answer the question properly straight away. "And I did try to stop him... sometimes... after a while I just...let him..." Jim looked queasy and stared back up at Sebastian, trying his best to keep it together, "He...used me. You know? Do you understand?"

Sebastian was indeed beginning to understand, but he had to be sure he wasn't just jumping to conclusions. "Used you for what, Jim?" he asked quietly. All the anger and impatience was gone from his voice, replaced by care and concern.

Jim started to cry very suddenly. It even caught him unawares. "Why are you making me say it?" he demanded through his tears.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "You don't have to say it. I'm sorry," he repeated. Sebastian began to wonder what he had gotten himself into. Jim had more problems than anyone deserved to have, let alone a seventeen year old boy. He wondered who would take care of Jim if he wasn't there. The answer that immediately came to mind was 'no one'. Without him, Jim would be totally alone. And god knows what he would do to himself then.

"You don't have to be sorry," Jim snapped, staring at the floor as a fresh wave of shame swept over him. He felt dirty and disgusting, and most of all, like he had somehow let Sebastian down.

"I am, though," he said, watching as Jim's expression blackened. "I know you don't want or need my pity, but...there it is." All he wanted was to hold Jim close to him, like he had done earlier. He thought that the closer they were, the safer and happier they both would feel. But he knew that wasn't the case. Jim would push him away as soon as he laid a finger on him. Especially now, after admitting everything. So Sebastian just sat next to him, watching but not saying a word.

Jim picked at his fingernails and scowled, trying his best to be fierce (the occasional sobs weren't helping). He had known this would happen. He despised pity and yet he was getting it from Sebastian by the bucket load. All he wanted (not that he'd admit it) was for someone to say 'Jesus, what a terrible thing to happen!' and then leave it at that. He supposed he wanted recognition for what he'd been through, and proof he hadn't simply been overreacting all this time. "Say something," he commanded unhappily.

"I don't know what to say. Jim, we can't just leave him there. If you don't call the police, things will only get worse. I know you don't want to deal with any of this, but we have to. You have to think of something," he said. He was trying his hardest not to patronize Jim, who was angry enough as it is.

"Well, we have two options," said Jim, sounding empty and flat, as though he were reading out a maths equation or a boring passage of text rather than making a huge decision that would, in one way or the other, shape his future. "Either we dispose of the body, or I hand myself in." He sniffed and wiped his eyes, remembering the third option, his personal favourite. "Or I could dispose of myself. Even though I know you don't want me to."

Sebastian glared at Jim when he mentioned the third option. He decided to not even acknowledge it. "Where do you think we could hide it?" he asked, looking out into space rather than at Jim. To him, getting rid of the body was the only real course of action. He was determined to protect Jim no matter what; he couldn't let the boy get arrested.

Jim shrugged, deciding all of a sudden that he couldn't care less. What was the point anyway? It was only going to end the way it always did; badly. Sebastian put his head in his hands. Here he was, risking his life for Jim, and he was being so uncooperative! "Jim, please, you need to help with this. I'm willing to go to any lengths to get you out of this mess, but you need to help me."

"Why?" demanded Jim, turning into a petulant child because of the overwhelming stress and responsibility suddenly placed on his shoulders. He didn't feel ready for it. "Why are you helping me anyway?" He realised he sounded cruel and suspicious, but he couldn't help it. His head was a mess. All he wanted was to close his eyes and disappear forever.

"Because we're _friends_, Jim, and friends help each other in difficult times. Usually, that doesn't include concealing a murder, but I'll do it, if that's what you want. I just can't make the decision for you. _What do you want to do?_" he asked, looking right at Jim and placing his hand on the boy's shoulder at this last.

Jim sighed and pulled himself together, taking strength from the hand on his shoulder. He nodded, showing he was ready to cooperate. "Let's get rid of him. We could put him in the river?"

"No," Sebastian shook his head. "That's the first place they'd look," he narrowed his eyes in thought. "Whatever we choose to do, we probably shouldn't do it until dark," he said, looking at the bright morning sky out of the window.

"Well, it's not like anyone ever visits our house," commented Jim optimistically, "We can go and get him later on." Feeling ever so slightly braver, he sat up a bit. "Bury him in the woods?" he suggested, thinking only of films he had seen and books he had read.

"I guess we could-" Sebastian stopped. An idea had struck him. The woods was a rather popular destination for victims like Mr Moriarty; popularized by television and pop culture. But Sebastian thought of someplace better. "The cemetery," he said. "You never look for something in its proper place. And it's huge, it would take them ages to dig it all up," he said, looking at Jim, almost gleeful with his idea.

Jim raised a tired eyebrow, weary but still impressed. "You know what, Mr Moran?" he said playfully, "You are an awful lot smarter than you look." He shuffled on Sebastian's couch and enjoyed how comfortable it was. His own sofa at home had been dirty and broken and covered in beer cans, not an ideal place to relax.

"Well, we can't all show it off all the time," Sebastian said, lightly mocking. "Do you want to sleep?" he asked. He figured Jim must be tired, having been awake early enough to get to school at five.

The boy nodded, hoping it wasn't too rude of him to simply nod off at a time like this, after he had probably put Sebastian through enough stress to give him a heart attack. He began to wriggle again, curling up into the fetal position and hugging his knees to his chest.

Sebastian went to his room and brought back his blanket to put over Jim. He only had the one, considering he didn't have a guest bedroom, and people didn't often curl up on his couch. "Here," he said as he covered Jim with the blanket. "I'll just be in the other room if you need anything," he said, thinking it best to give the boy some privacy after everything that happened.

Jim blinked up at Sebastian, still surprised by his care and kindness, even after what he had offered to do for him. He found he couldn't find the words to express his gratitude correctly, and so he simply snuggled up under the soft, warm, material and watched the man leave the room, eyes fixed on his back like a tired hawk.

Sebastian sank down into a chair at the kitchen table. It had certainly been an unusual morning. And he had a feeling the day would only get more trying. He stared out the window and lost himself in thought. He couldn't believe Jim was capable of killing another person, even someone who had done what his father did to him. He paused. He was glad Jim had stood up for himself. He never really stood a chance against any of the boys at school when they teased him, but this time he had fought back. Maybe Jim had gone a little too far in killing his father, but Sebastian was glad he had done it. If Sebastian had known what was going on between the two of them, he would have killed Mr Moriarty himself. It made him sick to think of how badly Jim was treated. He vowed that from now on, however this situation turned out, Sebastian would take care of Jim.


	3. Chapter 3

About twenty minutes later, Jim woke with a start, crying out hauntingly and panting, sweat soaking his body. For a horrific moment, he didn't know where he was and was so tired and confused he almost started to cry again. Thank goodness, his brain whirred into action a second later and spared him the shame of breaking down yet again. 'You're at Seb's place, Jim. You're safe. You're safe. It's okay. Pull yourself together'. Teeth chattering, he sat up and took deep breaths to try and calm himself down. He wasn't going to get hurt here. There was no reason to panic. Sebastian jolted out of his reverie when he heard Jim's yell. He ran into the living room, heart pounding, mind jumping to the worst conclusions. He was relieved to see Jim safe, sitting on his couch. He approached him. "Are you alright?" he asked. What a stupid question. Of course the boy wasn't alright.

"Fine, fine..." he insisted, teeth still chattering. Jim kicked the blanket off him and wrapped his arms around his waist, hugging himself tightly. He was scared that Sebastian would realise just how unusual he was, how strange and difficult, and would suddenly change his mind about him. Fighting very hard to seem like any other normal kid of his age, he forced a smile and stopped himself rocking. He hadn't even realised he was doing that up until this point.

"You know, you don't have to keep doing that," said Sebastian as he sat down next to Jim. "Smiling. Putting on a brave face. You don't need to hide your feelings from me, Jim. I understand." Jim nodded, unconvinced but eager to please. He wondered how Sebastian could possibly understand, though. He seemed perfectly normal, and sorted and nice. Yes, he was a sarcastic bastard, thought Jim affectionately, but he was one of those good people you only ever heard about on the television or read about in books. He hesitated to label him as a 'hero' since he believed there was no such thing, but he thought privately that Sebastian Moran was the closest real life could possibly offer.

"I was thinking," said Jim in a small voice, "I was thinking that if you could lend me the cash, I could get out of the country maybe? I'd pay you back, I promise. Or I could rent somewhere else, somewhere smaller? I could get a job so you'd get a return pretty quickly. I'm sorry to have to ask but..." He didn't finish that thought. He was going to say, 'I am sorry to have to ask but there is no one else.'

"You must be insane," said Sebastian affectionately. "You really think that after all of this, I'm just going to abandon you? Sorry, Jimmy, but you're stuck with me now," he said, smiling at the boy. "I was thinking much the same thing, actually. We should leave the country as soon as we bury the body. I can only imagine what people will say when they realised I've run off with a student."

"What, really?" Jim exclaimed, not quite able to believe his luck. "You're coming with me?" He beamed and his entire body seemed to relax. Despite being a loner at school and enjoying his own company, he didn't think after experiencing such closeness with Seb, he would be able to manage on his own anymore. Certainly not somewhere he'd never been before and that he wasn't used to. Jim was close to laughing with excitement when he remembered the reality of the situation. Sebastian had a good job over here, and it seemed, judging by his flat, a good income. Was he really going to spoil that for the man? It didn't seem fair. "Seb, you don't have to...I mean...I don't want you to feel like I'm your responsibility or something, just because you're so nice to me..."

"Are you kidding?" Sebastian asked. "I'm not doing it because I feel obligated. I'm doing it because going anywhere with you seems like it'd be a lot more fun than staying here. I've been wanting to leave this awful city ever since I first arrived. The only reason I stayed was-" he stopped, not sure how Jim would take the next few words. "Because of you," he finished, looking down at the floor. "I, uh...I've never had a ton of friends, and the ones I had kind of...got on without me while I was in the army. There was no room for me when I got back. So I've just been wasting time here, waiting for something better to come up. And finally, it has," he looked back at Jim, pulling up one corner of his mouth in a smile that he hoped would lighten the situation.

Jim had never felt happy before in his life, not properly. He had always secretly craved and hunted the illusive emotion, and after years of disappointment he had come to the conclusion that perhaps he wasn't even capable of it. That he wasn't even worthy like everyone else was. In that one moment, in those few choice, perfect words from Sebastian, everything changed for Jim. He felt light and dizzy, sort of warm, but in a bouncy way. He knew what he was experiencing, even though it was completely new to him. It was impossible to miss. "Seb..." he whispered, finding himself quite unable to talk.

"Yeah...?" asked Sebastian, downhearted. He was certain that the boy was about to explain all the reasons he shouldn't accompany him, why he was better on his own, and why he didn't want Sebastian's company. Rejection had become a staple of Sebastian's life, and this would just be another in a long line of them.

"I'd love that," he managed to say in a small voice full of wonderment. "Do I really...I mean...do I really mean that much to you?" Jim wasn't fishing for compliments for once. Not this time. He was genuinely amazed that he might have actually come to mean something to someone. A huge smile broke out on Sebastian's face. He was so relieved, and more than that, he was happy.

"Of course you do," he said, putting his arm around the boy's shoulders and pulling him close. "You're pretty much my only friend." Jim grinned to himself and for once didn't try to escape the physical contact. It hadn't even occurred to him that he and Sebastian were friends. But looking back on their relationship so far, he supposed Seb was right. They _were_ friends. He just hadn't noticed because Sebastian was his teacher.

"How old are you, Seb?" he asked, his usual habit of asking the most seemingly irrelevant questions and craving odd little details at strange moments coming to the fore.

"Thirty-one," he said, unconcerned by Jim's abrupt change of subject. He was used to that by now. "What else do you want to know?"

"What do you like?" he asked, being vague without even realising it. If he was going to be running away with this brilliant man, he supposed he had better take the opportunity to find out as much about him as he possibly could.

"What?" Sebastian laughed. "What does that even mean?" Jim frowned but forgave Sebastian for laughing. After all, they were friends and you had to make allowances for friends, or so Jim had read.

"I mean, what things do you like? What things to you like to do?" Sebastian calmed down a bit, hearing the frown in Jim's voice.

"Well, I..." he hadn't really thought about it before. It was a little difficult to sum up his habits in a few sentences. "I read a lot, hence me becoming an English teacher," he started. "And I like to hunt, although I haven't in a while." He sighed. "Mostly, I just drink a lot when I'm not with you."

Jim shuddered at the mention of drink, although it only lasted for a second. He had a terrible vision of Sebastian drunk. Really, really, horrendously drunk like his father. He swallowed and composed himself, "I see...what sort of a...I mean, um..." He chickened out of asking him more about his drinking habits, since he realised that was both obtrusive and none of his business. "Hunting sounds fun," he offered weakly, hoping Sebastian hadn't noticed his little moment.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Jim," he said, suddenly realising. "It's not like that, I'm not...I wouldn't...I didn't mean like that. I'm not violent like he was, I promise. Shit," he repeated. "That was the wrong thing to say, wasn't it?" he muttered to himself.

"It's okay," said Jim, relaxing at the instant response from Seb. He had promised and that meant he had to be telling the truth. Sebastian Moran was a great many things, but he wasn't a liar. He could feel Sebastian's embarrassment and unease and so he leaned against him and patted his chest lightly with his hand in an affectionate manner. "Tell me more things," he demanded.

"I don't really know what you want to hear. I'm no good at just talking about myself. Ask me a question or something," he said, enjoying the feeling of Jim being so near to him. Despite his cold and distant manner, he had always craved physical contact of any kind. Receiving it from his only (and by default, best) friend was incredibly nice. Jim sighed theatrically, enjoying the way the power had been handed back over to him.

"You really are hopeless, Seb," he told him with a smile. "Tell me about your home. Tell me about you when you were my age."

Sebastian smiled a little before he began to think. "I grew up without having any real problems, and I guess I'm lucky for that. I had enough friends at school, and I was never really sad or lonely. I got on fine with my parents, but they always made it very clear that they were in charge. Especially my dad. I guess my family functioned so well because I never had the guts to stand up to him. Nor did my mum. They tried to raise me to be just like them: strong, intelligent leaders. They were the ones who told me I should enlist in the army. I was always so scared of disappointing them," he said. Suddenly, he recalled the one time he had disappointed them. "That's why it was so hard for me to...to come out. I knew they wouldn't be proud of me anymore, no matter what I did. I had to tell someone, though. I thought my mum would be more understanding, and we could just keep it a secret. But she didn't. She freaked out, and told my dad. He was not at all pleased." Sebastian thought of the scars on his back from his father's belt buckle. He hadn't been able to sit back in a chair without cringing for weeks. "I wish I had been strong like you, Jim," he said in a whisper. His eyes were fixed on the wall, but his mind was a million miles away.

Jim listened intently to Sebastian's words, nodding at the first part and trying his best to imagine Seb's parents. In his head, Seb's mother was pretty and slim with Sebastian's distinctively clear blue eyes. His father was a stern man with military posture with a strong jaw and the same broad shoulders and narrow waist as Seb. He imagined him with a frown, but not like Seb's. Seb's frown was almost a smile really, it was disapproving but essentially affectionate. It just showed that he was trying to be sensible. The second half of Seb's story let Jim know that Mr Moran, Sr was a letdown and a bastard and the man in his mind's eye was suddenly covered in shadow. How anyone could fail to be proud of Sebastian was beyond him. "It's alright, you know," Jim told him after a moment of silence. "I'm proud of you." He remained relaxed against Sebastian's body and blinked at his very last comment. Jim wasn't strong, he knew that. He was a coward. Always had been, always would be.

"I'm glad," said Sebastian. He buried his face in Jim's soft dark hair. Ordinarily, he wouldn't take such a step with anyone, but this wasn't exactly an ordinary day. "I don't care about anyone else anymore," he confessed. This pleased Jim greatly. He was extremely attached to Sebastian, and he liked that he was the only one who mattered to him. He was tempted to ask more about when Seb came out, but was worried he might offend him or upset him.

"So, you aren't in contact with your parents anymore?" he asked carefully.

"No. When I left the army, they told me in no uncertain terms that they didn't want anything to do with me." Sebastian felt oddly comforted in telling all of this to Jim. He knew he wouldn't be judged, or mocked, or anything. He would be understood. That was what he'd always needed.

"Their loss," declared Jim passionately, feeling a spike of hatred for these unknown people in his gut. "Did they ever...you know...earlier you said you understood..." What he meant to ask was if they had hurt Sebastian, but he couldn't find the right way to put it into words. For some reason, Sebastian felt like he was letting Jim down because his parents hadn't beaten him regularly. Obviously, he couldn't understand everything Jim was feeling, but he wanted to.

"Just once," said Sebastian. "That day. My dad...he whipped me with his belt. And when I tried to run away...he tied me to my bed and hit me even harder. He was so angry..." Jim's eyes widened and he nodded sadly, a silent thank you to Sebastian for telling him this secret, also demonstrating his understanding. It hurt him to think of something like that happening to Seb. Jim had never been hit with a belt, but he realised how painful it must be. His vivid imagination came into play once again, and Jim could see the scene in his head, his lovely Sebastian, young, less lined, without the constant exasperated expression, trying to get away from his brute of a father and not managing it. Jim winced with every hit of the belt he saw inside his head, watching Sebastian grit his teeth as the metal buckle made contact with his skin.

"That must have been painful," he remarked quietly. Sebastian laughed. He didn't know why. He supposed it was to keep from crying.

"It stopped being painful after the first few minutes. Then it was just...sad. The whole thing was just sad. I don't understand why people have children if they're not going to love them, or take care of them properly. I just don't get why shit like this has to happen!" he said angrily, extricating himself from Jim's arms.

Sad. After all that had happened that was the word Sebastian used to sum everything up. Jim chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. What had happened to him had made him angry and vengeful. With Seb, he had just become detached. Jim wondered if he would ever become mature enough to look at things the way Sebastian did. He did not comment as Sebastian freed himself, although he did not like it. Jim merely watched the man with unhappy curiosity and immediately missed the warmth of his embrace. Sebastian took a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself.

"I'm sorry," he said. He always felt the need to apologise when he had outbursts like that. He tried so hard to keep his emotions in check, but every once and a while, the dam broke. At least he wasn't throwing things this time.

Jim was almost scared, almost, but then everything was okay again because Sebastian had calmed down and was apologising. He swallowed and half smiled, trying to offer comfort.

"Well, it's all over now," Jim said quietly. "We're both safe. And I know I'm not very strong like you are, but I will try my best to make sure no one ever hurts you again." He held out his arms, for the first time in his life actually willing to initiate some form of contact with somebody. "Come here?" Sebastian latched onto Jim and held him tight, tighter and more earnestly than he had ever embraced anyone. He was moved by what Jim had said. The idea that someone - not just someone, a _teenager_ for god's sake - could go through what Jim had dealt with today, and still be willing to put his own self-pity aside in favor of comforting someone else was astounding. Jim's dedication to him was more than he deserved. Sebastian felt honoured to have Jim as his friend. As he buried his face in Jim's neck, he began to cry. He rarely cried, his emotions usually took a more violent turn. But all of this was too much.

"Thank you, Jim," he said between sobs. "Thank you so, so much."

Feeling needed was quite nice really, and although Jim hated seeing Sebastian in such a state, he enjoyed having the opportunity to look after him, to pay him back for all the man had done for him and was still planning on doing. Jim made a shushing noise and tentatively brought his hand up to Sebastian's hair. He began to stroke the strands carefully, gradually getting confident enough to run his fingers through it. It was the way he had always wished someone would look after him. Jim could feel a few tears on the skin of his neck and could even make out Sebastian's warm breath as he calmed himself down. It all felt rather perfect, Jim thought. Laughing shakily, Sebastian finally stopped crying, but he didn't let go of Jim.

"We're both complete wrecks," he said.

"Speak for yourself," teased Jim, still stroking Seb's hair. He sighed, a combination of his current state of being content, and the truth of Sebastian's words. "Two halves make a whole," Jim told Seb as though he was departing something very profound.

"Mm," agreed Sebastian. "...Jim?" he said after a few moments of silence.

"Where were you thinking of going? When we leave the country, I mean."

"To be honest, I have no idea. Anywhere but here, that's all I know," Jim said, trying to think on the spot and come up with an ideal destination for them. "What about you? Any ideas?"

"Nope," he said with a sigh. It was going to take some doing to actually make this plan work.

"What sort of a place will we buy?" asked Jim, smiling to himself at the idea of living with Sebastian, of having that freedom.

"I don't know. A huge mansion," he said smiling. "Bigger than Buckingham Palace."

Jim laughed and patted Seb on the head. He knew of course that the reality was going to be far from Buckingham Palace. They probably wouldn't be able to afford anything particularly nice, but as long as it was theirs, it would do.

"You and I should have a code word or something, so if you want to drag some gorgeous man home I know to make myself scarce," he said, trying to be grown up about everything.

"How about 'get out, I need a shag'?" he said, looking up at Jim.

"You're supposed to be an English teacher," frowned Jim, dropping his hand from Sebastian's hair subconsciously, "You could be a little more eloquent."

"And you're supposed to be seventeen. You could be a little less conscientious. Isn't that how kids are at your age?" he asked, playfully talking down to him.

Jim pouted at being called a kid. He was almost an adult now. In a couple of months he would be eighteen years old. Even if Sebastian was joking around, he didn't find it at all funny. "What do you mean, 'at my age'?" he demanded sulkily, even though his arms were still wrapped around Seb.

"Nothing, Jim, I'm just joking around," he said, not wanting to take anything too far. "I'm really...looking forward to this. I mean, not with the circumstances, but, you know, just in general," he qualified, remembering what the circumstances were.

Content with that answer, Jim's expression brightened again. He had to admit, he was really looking forward to this as well. "I'm sorry I was so rude to you the first time we met," said Jim very suddenly and unexpectedly. Sebastian adjusted his position on the couch so he could be face to face with Jim, but still hold him.

"You know I don't hold that against you," he said. "Do you remember-" he stopped. He was standing on a precipice (so to speak), and he wasn't sure whether or not he should go on. He was happy with Jim, happy about their friendship, and he didn't want to do anything to ruin it. "...Never mind," he said lamely.

"No, go on, do I remember what?" asked Jim. He enjoyed these private little conversations very much, and Seb seemed like he was possibly in a talkative mood.

Sebastian took a deep breath and began. There was no going back after this. "Do you remember that first conversation we had, where I joked I was in love with one of my students?" he asked, avoiding eye contact. "Well...if I were to say all of that again, about him being smart, and good looking and…all that,

only this time, instead of saying that idiot Carl Powers' name at the end, I said your name," he paused, trying to stop his voice from shaking. "What would you say?" he asked, looking into Jim's eyes. His voice was quiet. He felt as vulnerable as a child. Jim paused, expression totally blank. It took a few times rewinding what Sebastian had just said and playing it back to himself inside his head before he fully understood what Seb meant. He felt the corners of his lips twitch and his eyes glittered, these reactions beyond his control, happening before he could even think of a response.

"I would say..." said Jim quietly, softly. He reached out both of his hands and ever so gently placed them on either side of Sebastian's face, stroking the pad of his thumbs over his skin. "...I would say that you are lovely". He leaned up and pressed a very chaste, very tender kiss to Sebastian's forehead. With a wide smile, he said playfully, "So, are you saying it?" This wasn't the first time in the history of their friendship that the roles had reversed and Jim had somehow become the older one. Maybe it was less that they swapped ages, and more that they became equals. Regardless, this was one of those times. Sebastian could tell from Jim's reaction that he felt the same way, or at least wouldn't reject him. He reveled in the small kiss he could still feel on his forehead.

His heart was racing as he responded quietly, "Yeah, I am." Jim sighed happily and met Sebastian's gaze, taking the opportunity to really study those perfect clear blue eyes and the equally perfect faint lines forming at the sides. Jim Moriarty had never anticipated falling in love. He'd never believed that it was real. He'd shown scorn towards those who believed they felt it and considered this obsessive type of affection a weakness. It was not until this very moment, that Jim realised he might just have fallen for Sebastian Moran a long time ago.

"In that case, I had better tell you the truth as well," said Jim, dropping his hands from Seb's face so he could drape his arms around his neck, "I think, Mr Moran, my gorgeous Sebby, that I might just be in love with you too."

Sebastian smiled and brought Jim closer to him.

"Thank god," he said. "Because there's no way I'm living without you now."

"Oh, don't you worry," Jim drawled playfully, "There's no getting rid of me now. Poor Sebastian, what _have_ you gotten yourself into?"

"'Whatever our destiny is or may be, we have made it ourselves, and we do not complain'," murmured Sebastian, quoting a book he had read a long time ago. "I wonder what they'll say at school about this," he wondered aloud, not without fear.

Jim laughed and kissed Sebastian's cheek. "Who cares what they'll say? You and I, we're out of there. We're destined for bigger and better things."

Sebastian laughed, and before he could think what he was doing, kissed Jim full on the mouth. He pulled away quickly, afraid that he was rushing the boy. He knew that Jim was probably inexperienced with things like this, and didn't want to overwhelm him. Far from being intimidated by the kiss, Jim made a bereft noise when Sebastian pulled away from him. He hadn't kissed anyone before, but with Sebastian, things felt so natural that it didn't matter.

"Shit," whispered Sebastian, realising something. "We still have to bury the body tonight." For a minute, he had forgotten all about that, and had only been focusing on his new life with Jim. But the sudden realisation brought everything back. His lover (Is that what they were? Could he say that?) was technically on the run from the police. Jim whined and rubbed Sebastian's nose against his own gently.

"Who cares about the body? I want my first proper kiss". For the first time in his life, his fear of his father and his home life was unimportant to him. All he wanted was Seb, even though he knew the reasonable and mature response would have been to disentangle himself from him and help with the planning.

Sebastian smiled mischievously. "Why do I feel like I'm always going to have a difficult time saying no to you?" he asked. He leaned in and placed his lips tenderly on Jim's, enjoying every sensation of the kiss.

Jim would have come up with a brilliantly witty response to that comment, but the moment Sebastian's lips touched his own, he found his mind went blank and all he could think of was 'Sebastian, Sebastian, Sebastian'. This time it was slower and lovely and Jim was able to test a few things out. He liked that Sebastian was being so tender with him, since he knew the man didn't have to, after all, he'd obviously had tons of lovers before Jim came on the scene. Jim ran his tongue across Sebastian's lower lip and hummed contentedly, deciding kissing was something they were going to have to do a lot more of.

Sebastian was pleased to finally be kissing Jim. He had kept his feelings a secret for so long, even from himself, and now he was finally getting what he wanted. Jim was different than all the other men he'd had before. He was gentle, and slow, and he seemed to actually care. It was sweet, and refreshing. Sebastian let the kiss go on a while longer, then broke away unwillingly. He leaned his forehead against Jim's. "How was that for a first proper kiss?" he breathed.

"Perfect," Jim said in a small voice, inhaling Sebastian's scent and closing his eyes to make sure he always remembered this moment. He felt on top of the world, absolutely amazing, and yet he felt calm too. For once, the horrific rush of unwelcome thoughts and inbuilt angry feelings had disappeared from his mind. It was only the contentment he felt in their absence that made him realise that perhaps they weren't normal things to have in your brain anyway. "You know," declared Jim, sounding drunk on happiness, "You're a very beautiful man."

"Yeah, you keep saying that," Sebastian said, blushing a little bit. Of all the men he had been with, none had ever _really_ loved him. He understood that now. What he felt for Jim, and what he knew Jim felt in return, was the purest definition of that word. "No one's ever said that to me before. ...Thank you."

Jim smiled and stole another quick kiss. It was just a peck, but it satisfied Jim for the moment. He was slightly concerned that Sebastian was going to become some sort of addiction for him, but then he stopped worrying because he knew Seb would always be around to give him his fix.

"And thank you for saving me," he replied simply, because to Jim, Sebastian would always be his knight in shining armour, the man who rescued him when he was at his lowest.

* * *

**The next chapter may take some time, since I want to write the entire thing myself (these last three have been created with the help of my lovely friend, littleclaudy.) But don't worry, we'll get that body buried.  
P.S. - Anyone who can tell me the name of the book Sebastian quotes gets to be my best friend. What a prize!**


	4. Chapter 4

They spent the rest of the day at Sebastian's flat, talking. Not about anything in particular, just getting to really know each other. They also spent a while discussing their plan to bury Mr Moriarty's body and leave the country. Jim must have asked Sebastian thirty times if he was really sure about this. Sebastian always said yes. He knew he couldn't leave Jim to do this on his own; the threat he had made earlier of turning himself in would resurface, and he would spend the rest of his life in prison. Sebastian was willing to do anything if it meant Jim was safe and happy.

Finally, the sky was dark. Sebastian looked at Jim, who was across the room, looking at the books on Sebastian's shelf. "Hey…are you ready?" he asked quietly. Jim turned around and smiled. He didn't want Seb thinking he was weak, or scared.

"Yeah. Let's go," he said, picking up his coat. The two got into Sebastian's car and began to drive. In the back seat were two shovels, flashlights, and a duffle bag of Sebastian's things. They had decided to leave the country as soon as they were done. Jim would pack his stuff once they got to his house. For a long time, neither of them said anything. The reality of what they were doing was finally sinking in.

"Hey, we still don't know for sure whether you killed him or not. Maybe he just had a heart attack or something," said Sebastian hopefully.

"I'm not a doctor, but I'm pretty sure a heart attack wouldn't leave stab wounds," Jim said glumly. He felt guilty and ashamed for having dragged Sebastian into this. He had always been so self-reliant, and now…this. He was making an innocent man his accomplice. This was _wrong_. He felt no remorse for killing his father; that was completely justified. But ruining Sebastian's life wasn't. "I…I don't want you to do this," he said.

"What do you mean?" asked Sebastian. Backing out of this didn't even seem like a possibility to him. He loved Jim- more than anything. The boy was his only friend, and (as clichéd as it sounded) his only reason for living. Of course he'd help.

"I don't need your help. Stop the car," Jim demanded. It hurt him to be so cold to the man he'd been kissing just a short time before. "I'm not going to let you fuck up your entire life just to help me."

"There's nothing to fuck up," Sebastian said, still driving. "My family won't talk to me, I haven't seen my 'friends' in over a year…my life isn't that spectacular."

"You have a job, and a nice flat," Jim said, trying to make him understand. "You can make new friends! I'm not going to let you throw everything away because I made a stupid mistake in telling you everything!"

Sebastian pulled the car over, rather abruptly, and looked Jim in the eyes. "First of all, you didn't make a mistake in telling me. Your dad was a bastard, and you had every right to protect yourself like you did. I'm going to help you, and we're going to make all of this okay. And second, I don't _want_ to make other friends, or go on living my joke of a life. Day in, day out, waiting for something to happen. We can go away together. I don't need my job, or my family. All I need is _you_, and if doing this is how I can get you, I'll do it." He held Jim's hand. "You're not talking me out of this," he said gently.

Jim looked at their intertwined hands and smiled, shaking his head in disbelief. "That's the sappiest thing I've ever heard, Moran," he said. "I'm going to need you to not do that again." Sebastian grinned as he started the car and continued driving.

"Oh, so now I can't share my feelings?"

"Not if you're going to turn into a teenage girl every time you do it," Jim said. He continued to look at his friend (or whatever they were to each other now). He would never admit it, but he enjoyed hearing Sebastian say things like that. Jim always tried to be so unaffected by people, so cold. It was refreshing to have someone treat him exactly the opposite way. "Hey, Seb, can you promise me something?" he asked a few minutes later. His voice was quiet, uncertain.

"Hm?" grunted Sebastian, not taking his eyes off the road. He was an extremely careful driver, almost obsessive about safety.

"No matter what I say, or how many times I say it…promise me you'll always remember that I need you." Jim's eyes were locked on his knees. He couldn't look Sebastian in the face while saying this. It was like he was admitting weakness.

"Of course I will," responded Sebastian almost immediately. "I think way too highly of myself to believe you could get along without me," he joked. By this time, they were pulling into a parking space outside of the Moran family's flat. They got out of the car without another word on the subject. Both of them knew how the other felt; they didn't need any more words. Jim bounded up the steps, pulling out his key and unlocking the door. He didn't show any signs that something was wrong, just in case the neighbors were watching. The two went upstairs, not saying a word. They entered the flat, Jim going straight to a bedroom at the back, Sebastian a few steps behind, looking around.

The place wasn't in very good condition. It looked like nothing got cleaned very often: the floor was covered with dirt; there were beer cans and empty cigarette cartons littering the kitchen counters. All the furniture looked old, like it had been used for generations and no one ever thought of replacing it. Sebastian hated to think of Jim living here, listening to his parents argue every night, trying to do his homework while his father was sitting drunk on the couch…this was no place for a kid to grow up. No wonder Jim had done what he did. Seb didn't say a word of this, he just silently followed Jim around as he threw some of his clothes into a duffle bag. They then made their way into Jim's parents' room.

The man lay on the bed, on top of bloody sheets. He had obviously been dead a long time. Jim's eyes were narrowed; he had hardened himself to the task. Both he and Sebastian were determined to leave no trace, and had even taken the precaution of gloves. Sebastian watched Jim out of the corner of his eye, trying to detect some sign of fear, or sadness, but Jim kept his face blank as a slate. He was good at hiding his emotions, and refused to break down now. He just wanted to get this over with. "Come on," he said as he spread his parent's comforter on the floor. The plan was to wrap up the body in it, and carry him out to the car. If anyone asked, they would say they were taking the blanket out to get dry cleaned. Bundling the man up was more difficult than they expected; rigor mortis had set in a few hours ago, and the body was stiff. However, they had both decided earlier that this was the easiest course to take. Cutting up the body could get messy: they didn't want to leave blood stains anywhere. Besides that, neither of them had any tools efficient enough to cut through bone.

They made short work of it; concealing the body and getting it to the door. The most difficult part was holding it in such a way as to not look suspicious. Thankfully, they met no one on the stairs, and got the comforter into the back of Sebastian's car without any questions or odd looks.

"That was lucky," said Sebastian as Jim chucked his duffle into the back seat. They both fastened their seatbelts and began to drive toward the cemetery.

"Yeah, well," Jim muttered. "The few neighbors that are around have learned to ignore us. People used to come knocking when they heard dad yelling, but…they learned," he said moodily. He still hated his father, hated his memory. And he felt no remorse for killing him. Mr Moriarty had made his son's life a living hell. Jim had never been able to have friends, because whenever they came over, his dad would scare them off. And because he was always either too rude or too drunk to keep a job, their family had never been able to afford anything nice: their disgusting flat was in a bad part of town, most of their clothes were secondhand, and there had been times where Jim would've gone days without food had it not been for lunches at school. School was the one good part of his life. Or, at least, it had become good once he met Sebastian.

"We're almost there," Sebastian said quietly, interrupting Jim's reverie. "Remember, we have to go find a place to bury him first. Then we'll come back for him."

"Yeah, I know," said Jim. His voice sounded odd, kind of choked. He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, then get on with his life. Sebastian gave him a concerned look from the driver's seat. He knew better than to try to say anything; Jim had his own way of dealing with emotions. And there'd be time for all of that later.

They pulled up to the gates of the cemetery. It was deserted, but that was the point. They got out of the car, got the shovels from the back seat, and flicked on the flashlights they had brought from Sebastian's house, and went in. Sebastian felt a little uneasy: he had always thought of cemeteries as holy places, and now he was there for such an…unholy purpose. He stayed close to Jim, not wanting the two of them to get separated in the dark. Jim smirked a little when he realised what Sebastian was doing.

"Scared of the dark, Sebby?" he asked mischievously.

"No," Sebastian said immediately. Jim shook his head with a smile. "I just don't want anybody to see what we're doing, that's all," he finished.

"What? Going to look at some headstones? It's a public place, we're allowed to be here," Jim said, using the justification they were both prepared to give the police. It would be a bit harder to explain the shovels, but they would cross that bridge if and when they came to it. Sebastian just sighed and kept walking.

"We should find a place towards the back," he said. "Somewhere filled up, where they aren't likely to dig a new grave."

Jim chuckled. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you'd done this before," he said. Sebastian rolled his eyes with a smile.

"Yeah, Sebastian Moran; cold-blooded killer. Not likely," he joked as they reached the back fence of the cemetery. This was where the oldest graves were located; it was crowded with rows of crumbling headstones. "Here," said Sebastian, choosing a bit of ground where no one was buried. "This seems good." They began to dig, carefully cutting the grass out and laying it aside to be put back later. A freshly dug mound would surely garner some suspicion.

Three and a half hours. Sebastian had never thought it would take that long just to dig a hole, but there you go. The body was buried, and unless you looked closely, you couldn't see the places where the grass had been torn up. Sebastian looked over at Jim, who was clearly exhausted. He attempted to grab the boy's hand, but Jim pulled away.

"No," said Jim quietly. "Not here. Let's just leave," he said. He knew it was ridiculous, but for some reason, he felt like his father was still watching him. All Jim wanted was to get out of this cemetery and start his new life with Sebastian. He turned around and headed back to the car, knowing Sebastian would follow.

Sebastian took one last look at the secret, unmarked grave that held Jim's father. Something had changed within him recently; usually he felt some sort of sadness when faced with death, no matter whose it was. But now, all he felt was anger and relief. Anger, because of what Mr Moriarty had done to Jim, _his _Jim; all the pain he'd caused the boy, all the fear. And relief, because all of it was over now. Sebastian would protect Jim, and love him. They would be happy. With this thought, Sebastian followed Jim to the car. He got there to see Jim sitting in the front seat, his arms wrapped around himself, lost in thought. Sebastian got into the driver's seat, and looked at him. He wanted to pull the boy close to him, but he wasn't sure how the gesture would be received. "Are you going to be alright?" he asked quietly.

Jim nodded and attempted a smile. "I'll be with you, so yeah," he said. "So, where are we going? I mean, we're still leaving England, right?" he asked.

"No, I thought we could just stay here and get arrested for murder," Sebastian joked as he started the car and pulled away.

Jim nudged him playfully with his elbow. "Funny. Really, though, where are we going?"

"I don't know," Sebastian confessed. "It doesn't matter to me." He smiled, resisting the temptation to add, 'As long as you're there, it's perfect'.


End file.
